San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-10-01

mean?-there came more steps; steps in
the distance, steps in the road above, the
confused tramp Of many feet upon the
stones of the rough lane which led from
| AYemouth TO Rousdon. Whose could
these be' And what could they want,
coming TO Rousdon bay at 3 in the morn
ing'
Twas standing on ledge of rock over
| hanging the path from the house TO the
beach. By laying along the ledge could
look over the heads of these men as they
came down the hill, and almost touch
them. waited while they passed by the
silent house. They did not stop there;
evidently they had no business with its
occupants; and then a pang of terror
| struck my heart, for l reflected that was
the only occupant; and although they
might have no business with me, they
might have with those who ought to have
been there that night. lay down on the
| rock and cautiously looked over through
the branches of bramble
1t was not so dark but could distin
| guish the figures Of the men as they came
down the zigzag path, and slowly felt
| their way along the steep and narrow way
beneath me. 1t was not so dark but
could count that there were sixteen Of
them, and could hear the clash of arms
Then knew, without being told or want
ing to see any more, what they were and
what was their errand.
They We're the revenue men; they had
got the intelligence of Dams run; they
were come to catch him at the moment Of
landing-in the very act Of running his
cargo ashore.
thought, by the feel of the air and the
of Nv thati no
o'clock-say an hour and half be-
fore daybreak. That is to say, it was the
very time which Dan would choose, had he
favorable wind, for landing. And the wind
was favorable-a steady, strong south
wester, before which the Dancing Polly
would fly. There could be no doubt that he
was off the coast already.
1t seemed to me there was Just one
chance-and only ore. The revenue men
were all down on the beach at the west
side of the bay, under the rocks which
were carried away afterward in the great
landslip. Suppose could get, unseen, to
the point of land which ran out-iust a
little point-on the east, and shout an
alarm at the moment when the Dancing
Polly neared the mouth of the bay.
1t was the only chance. / knew every
rock, and ledge, and stone about the place.
| had 10 need to get down by the path.
l slid, jumped and crept, working my
way round the bay, so as to get to the
point unnOticed,
That was easy. | dare say the men
were all half asleep; the night was very
dark, and my figure could hardly be made
out against the black masses of rock and
overhanging brambles. l arrived at the
point and, crOuched behind q stone, / sat
watching intently the black waves close
at my feet and the black sky above me.
1t grew cold, as it always does before
the dawn, but | felt nothing; in the in
tense moments of life one does not think
of such things. prayed that Dan might
be late and that the day might break, SO
that he should be able to see me before he
made his port. For, once in the bay,
which was, as | have said, but a tiny
creek, there was no room to turn, and the
opportunity would be lost.
Alas! that hope failed.
While | sat watching, and almost be-
fore | had time to make her out the
Dancing Polly came up out of the black
ness of the night, steering straight for
the mouth Of the bay
l sprang up, and shrieked, and waved
my arms.
Back, Dan, back! hard portr'
1t was no use. Dan saw me on the
point, but her bows were already in the
creek. job and Jephthah ran down the
canvas, and the boat grounded on the
beach.
The Dancing Polly had made her last
run.
ran round the bay for my life, spring
ing from stone to stone in the dark, cry
ing, Dan, Dan! they are waiting for you!
Run! oh, run, run! VIII, runl''
There was shout, a rush, the sudden
flashing of dark lanterns. "In the kings
name,' shouted rough voice, "surren-
derr'
When l got round they had secured
their prisoners. All four were hand
cuffed, and the men were standing round
them in ring. l broke through them,
still shrieking my useless warning, and
fell crying upon Dams neck
81 heard you, my pretty" said the poor
old man, "but it was too late. You done
your best, but it was too late.''
Rugged him and kissed him, crying
and weeping. Then / remembered Will
"He is a passenger" l said to the
officer; 'let him go. He only went to
look on. He stranger here. He is not
a smuggle-, he is a gentleman. ~
"He is my prisoner" said the officer,
land must go with the rest. Fall in, meni
Ready Marchr'
The men had their cutlasses drawn, but
there was no bloodshed as there was no
resistance. Dan was not one of the des-
peradoes who carried pistols, and ar
ranged beforehand for an armed band of
villagers to help him in landing the cargo.
Moreover, resistance to the kings officers,
in those days, meant death.
followed the procession up the path
When we arrived in front of the house
poor, deserted house, never again to re.
ceive all its occupantsI-Dan asked pei
mission for halt.
"Pleasance, my pretty" said Dan, go
and bring out glass of brandy for this
gentleman, and one all round for these
brave lads and for us prisoners. "ris
brandy, your honor, as never''-
Il know, l know" said the officer,
laughing-it was Capt Pollard, r. N.
well, we will halt for the brandy"
l served them all, beginning with the
officer, and going from him to thu prison.
ers. 1t was now daybreak, and, in the
cold gray light, l recognized all their
faces. l knew every one of them. had
seen them at BridpOrt, at Seaton, and
elsewhere, when l went to look out for
the revenue cutter. One of them was a
Lyme man, cousin of John Beer, the
barber.
There" said Dan, when the brandy
had gone round, ''now 60 in, my pretty,
and get to sleep, and don't fret. Where
are we going, sir?''
TO Lynn, first, then to Bridport. After
hot I'LL
chester to take your trial"
81 shall walk to Lyme with VOL, ), /